Care : The Extended Version
by Serenity Cosmos Riddle
Summary: After the war, Draco stumbles onto Harry's doorstep. Extended version of my one shot Care.
1. Chapter 1

Care : The Extended Version.

**By :** S.C.R

**Notes:** Just a test. It was suggested in the review for my story Care that I should continue with that, perhaps use it as an outline. So I started to type this out. If I get good reviews I'll continue. If not, that's cool too, I'll just leave my other story to stand on its own.

* * *

He sat in Grimmauld Place, a magazine opened on his lap, his head having fallen back, and eyes closed. Harry Potter, twenty years old, was now the proud owner of a semi-normal life. Of course, he was still stuck with the hero stigma, but it was to be expected. It didn't help that he also moved on after defeating the dark lord to become the youngest auror in history, and the fact that he played such a large part in rebuilding the ministry with the help of the order. Then there was his god-son, Teddy -- son of war heroes, god-son of Harry Potter, and metamorphagus with werewolf tendencies -- who he played an active part in the boy's life, often allowing him to tag along while he spoke to students at Hogwarts, or oversaw the goings on at the ministry.

Alright, so maybe not normal, but it was close enough.

Tonight though, he felt normal. Drinking hot chocolate, reading the latest issue of the Quibbler (proudly run and edited by Luna Lovegood), or – he had been doing those things, now he was in the process of falling asleep on the sofa to the sound of the rain outside.

Naturally, however, he was not allowed this feeling of normalcy for very long. The moment he began to dream, seeing himself floating – then suddenly hitting a door. Why a door was in the skies of his dream, he wasn't sure, but he could here a knocking from the other side of it. A knocking that eventually made him stir from what he'd hoped would have been a nice nap.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" He called, putting the Quibbler down, and taking a few quick strides to the door. Any questions as to who it was or why they would be visiting him this late, in the rain no less, took a back seat as he caught sight of the figure at his door.

A hand gripped his wand immediately out of habit. In front of him a thin figure stood, clothed in wet, tattered black robes, hood up with bits of platinum blond hair escaping it. Slowly the other's head rose slightly, and Harry found himself staring into the silver-blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. Older, worn, almost sickly, but undoubtedly still the young Malfoy heir. He didn't say anything, but just his being there was a great cry for help. Help, he didn't expect to receive, but if anyone were to give it wouldn't Harry Potter, the wizarding world's golden boy, their great savior be an obvious choice?

"Malfoy?" He couldn't help the distain in his voice, the childish habit of using only surnames, or the suspicious gaze as he searched for a wand about to be pressed at his throat or perhaps even a blade. Under his scrutinizing inspection of the other male he saw that he couldn't have held a wand or blade steady if he'd wanted to. The blonde's entire body was shaking slightly, hand gripping the frame of the door.

He needed help, that much was clear, but even as they stood there, watching each other, waiting… Malfoy wouldn't ask for his help. He could barely stay on his feet, but even now he refused to ask for help because that would be admitting something far worse. That he'd been wrong.

That idea infuriated Harry even now. Dumbledore had tried to help him, Severus had helped him, and they were dead now while he was still here at Harry's doorstep expecting help to be offered once more. A scowl tugged at his features and he moved to slam the door shut, a hand stopping him. Pale, narrow fingers splayed across the door, his whole weight leaning against it so that if Harry should pull back too quickly Draco would tumble forward.

"Potter," He said, barely more then a whisper, hesitant to continue. "Sorry..."

He breathed a sigh and slowly let the door open again, looking to the once Slytherin Prince. Lips parted, ready to speak, to bid the other male to come in, sit down, eat something…Instead, with barely a split second of time to react, Harry opened his arms to catch the limp figure before he hit the ground. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, shifting slightly to pull Draco up in both his arms, carrying him the stairs.

"Kreacher!" Harry called, the house elf scurrying forward. Actually – not scurry, he was a bit too old for that, but he walked to his master as quickly as he could manage. Large eyes fell from his master to the blond in his arms, recognition flickering across his drawn features. "Some hot water and a clean cloth please." Kreacher nodded and vanished with a 'pop' to do as he was bid.

He lay Draco down on his bed gently and for a minute or so he just watched the other sleep.

Harry hadn't expected this.

Hadn't wanted this.

Hadn't cared before about the fate of Draco Malfoy.

How could five short minutes change all that? A stab of pity as he watched him shake in the rain on his doorstep had started it. It was the crack in the dam. Sympathy seeped through that crack when he'd lifted Draco in his arms; not only did the male weigh hardly anything at all, but holding him Harry could feel every rib beneath his fingers. Removing the frayed robes he was flooded with some emotion he couldn't quite name. Sadness, anger, pity – a mixture of the three – maybe something more.

Under those worn old robes the frail form had been hidden, disguising all his different injuries. Once flawless porcelain flesh was littered with bruises and scars, he was half starved to death, and even when he was unconscious parts of him twitched – a symptom Harry recognized as the after effects of being put under the Crutciatus for extended periods of time.

Kreacher returned only long enough to give Harry what he'd asked for then left once more. Harry wet the cloth in the warm water, wringing out the excess before gently wiping the filth from Draco's form. He could have just as easily done the same job with magic and it would have been quicker, but the hot 

water and gentle touch seemed to sooth the other's unease and stopped the slight twitches. This way he could go along, cleaning his wounds, applying a salve to the bruises and scars, healing any open injuries. Only to pause half way down his chest, where Draco's arm was cradled; swollen, red, and broken, but that wasn't what made Harry falter. He could heal the broken bone without any problem, what made him stop was the hint of black along the blonde's forearm, black that had once taken the shape of the dark mark, but was impossible to pick out now beneath so many scars. It was as if Draco had tried to cut the darkness out of him, and these scars wouldn't heal, they were done magically with the intent of permanence.

Once he was cleaned and healed to the extent Harry could offer, the Gryffindor conjured him some clean clothes, and pulled the blankets up around him. Fingers played cautiously over Draco's forehead and gently through his hair before he caught himself, shaking his head, and rising to his feet.

Harry left the room considering what had just happened. He should go to the ministry. They'd just assumed Draco had died, no one had seen him after the battle at Hogwarts. Now that he was alive, by every right he should be sent to the ministry and tried for his crimes like all the other death eaters had been.

He couldn't bring himself to do it though, at least, not right now. Harry was too curious as to how the other male had ended up this way. He wanted to know where he'd been the last three years, and how he'd kept himself under the radar for so long. Part of him also felt that he clearly had been punished enough to warrant some rest.

So Harry let him be, allowing the blonde to sleep in his room for the time being, and went to one of the spares rooms himself. He also decided to keep his new house guest a secret for now. Things would only get complicated if he told anyone Draco was here, and if the wrong person found out it would become a scandal he didn't want to deal with.

Harry sent word to work that he wouldn't be coming in for a few days. Nobody questioned him. They never did because Harry still did so much that it was understood that sometimes he needed some time away. He would take on the role of tending Draco until he woke up, which didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, but Harry could wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Care : The Extended Version.

**By : **S.C.R

**Notes : **Here is the second part. Hope You like it.

* * *

_Chapter Two_

Harry jumped, on his feet in an instant, lighting the room with his wand, and looking around franticly as a scream startled him from his sleep. It hadn't been his scream though, and an instant later he was sprinting down the hall to the bedroom where Draco had been sleeping the passed three days. He shoved open the door, almost afraid that who ever had hurt the blond so badly to begin with had found him here. There was no one else in the room though.

Lowering his wand, Harry looked to the other male…He recognized that look.

Draco sat straight up in bed, blond hair matted down with a cold sweat, eyes wide in terror with tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't even see Harry standing in the door way, bloodshot hues staring down at his own hands as he gripped the sheets. Harry moved to the side of the bed, and Draco's attention snapped towards him in an instant. The blond flinched away, and though didn't say anything it was clear he did want the other male near him. A slow, shaky breath passed his chapped lips when Harry stepped back again.

It wasn't until the Gryffindor left the room, leaving the door open ever so slightly so he could see inside, that Draco relaxed slightly. His entire body had been rigid, fingers white from clenching the sheets, watching fearfully as Harry strayed too close. Green eyes peered through the crack in the door as Draco suddenly collapsed into a fit of tears, curling up in the bed, too afraid to close his eyes until finally he exhausted himself.

Harry had seen a lot of things both during the war and after it, but never like this. And he'd certainly never seen Draco in this state before. He'd caught the boy crying in their sixth year, but that was nothing compared to the utterly broken young man taking refuge in his house now.

Finally Harry turned and strode back to the guest room, going back to bed as well.

The next morning Harry pulled open the curtains to his bedroom window, a plate of food on the nightstand beside the bed, and Draco watching him silently with a groggy sort of confusion. He ate little more then half of the breakfast, but Harry didn't press the matter. He also didn't argue as Harry drew a bath, and offered his arm to help the other to the bathroom.

They didn't speak, and rarely even looked each other in the eyes. However, they had come to a sort of arrangement. For a week Harry took off work, tended to Draco without question or complaint, until he was sure that the other could be left on his own for a while. Harry returned to work, not concerned in the slightest about leaving the Malfoy heir in his home unattended. The blond was still weak, had no wand, and would be foolish to cause any trouble after Harry had done so much for him and with a word could have him dropped right into Azkaban where he belonged.

Of course, it was still a wonder that he hadn't done the later. Even Harry didn't know why he was so patient with the Slytherin. He deserved what he got, didn't he? Still – every time he looked at Draco he remembered when they were at school and that last year of the war. Honestly, looking back on it now, he didn't believe the blond had actually wanted to be a part of all that. It wasn't entirely his fault. Maybe he'd known that all along and that was why he'd always made a point to save Draco even when he 

didn't deserve it. Maybe everyone had been right about Harry and he needed to be the savior, the hero, and now that the war was over, Draco was the only one left that he could do that for. Whatever the reason, it all remained his little secret.

Besides, he couldn't just send the other away until he had a few answers. He still wanted to know where Draco had been, and who was responsible for all his injuries. Once Harry knew that, he would be able to better decide how to handle him.

* * *

It had been six weeks and three days since Draco had shown up on his door step. He was actually looking healthy, and could move freely through the house as he pleased. When Harry had guests over, Draco would vanish into the guest bedroom and read or sleep, knowing he was a secret to be kept and seemingly content with that fact. None of that was what made this forty-fifth day of their little story different though.

"Morning…"

It had been soft and unsure, and Harry doubted for a moment that he'd even heard it. However, he glanced over at the bed where Draco sat, eating the breakfast that Kreacher had brought, and found the blond had paused looking at a spot Harry supposed was around the center of his chest. They still didn't look at each other properly, but his gaze was just enough to let Harry know that he hadn't been hearing things.

"Good Morning." He said in reply, to which Draco offered a slight incline of his head before going back to his breakfast. They were the first words exchanged between them since the night Draco had shown up here. It was the start of something. Of course neither of them realized this, but that single word had opened the door.

Harry sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room, drinking his morning coffee, and as if prompted by the greeting began to speak. It was nothing really. He talked about what the weather was like outside, and how he had a speech to give at Hogwarts today – "I was thinking of sticking around to watch a Quidditch match. You know, Slytherin won the house cup last year?" – idly commenting how he'd be back in time for dinner. He doubted Draco cared, but the blond nodded every so often or gave a small shrug of his shoulders. Harry took to mentioning when he would be home for dinner and when he wouldn't simply because during the former sometimes his silent companion would join him downstairs and they would both read from the newspaper while they ate or listen to the television. Harry never thought much of it, but had grown to like the company.

* * *

Nine weeks, four days, and twelve hours into their story marked the next level of this strange relationship forged between them. Draco's nightmares were few and far between by this point, but every so often Harry would hear the cries from down the hall, and would quietly seat himself on the side of the bed, smoothing the other male's hair back gently until he calmed down before returning to sleep 

himself. Harry no longer questioned why he did these things, or why he cared, simply accepted that he did.

However, on this night, it was Harry's dreams that were plagued with nightmares of the past and people long since gone. It wasn't often that he had trouble sleeping like this, but every now and again something at work or in the news would settle the wrong way with him and bring up memories he had tried so hard to put aside.

He'd tossed and turned since the moment he'd laid down, murmuring things in his sleep, pleading with ghosts that weren't there, crying out in pain or grief until a gentle hand grasped his, fingers lacing together and stopping his movement. His dreams faded until all he could focus on was the smaller hand clasped within his own, and the cool touch across his forehead. When he stirred he looked up through half lidded eyes and met the passive silver gaze of his charge who had taken up Harry's usual role. There were still no words or explanation, Draco simply looked back at him for a long moment before rising and leaving the room. Harry slept soundly after that, and come morning things returned to the way they were except every so often emerald hues would look up at catch the other's gaze – something behind those pools of blue and silver was still broken, that almost made Harry want to turn away, but he wouldn't because there was also something comforting in that gaze, understanding…


End file.
